


By Any Other Name

by hollyandvice (hiasobi_writes)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Light Dom/sub, M/M, Miscommunication, Rope Bondage, Safeword Use, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-25
Updated: 2020-02-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:22:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22890133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hiasobi_writes/pseuds/hollyandvice
Summary: "There's my good boy," Steve murmurs. Tony clenches his eyes shut behind the blindfold, trying not to succumb to Steve's temptation. "Look how pretty you are, taking everything I give you. All spread out on the bed for me. Can't wait to get my hands on you. God, you're gonna fall apart so pretty for me, aren't you?"Steve makes the mistake of taking Tony to bed angry and ends up pushing too far.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 18
Kudos: 297





	By Any Other Name

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Firelightmystic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Firelightmystic/gifts).



> This started as me asking for smut prompts in the POTS server and then turned into me challenging Firelightmystic to a sprint-off. Then my piece went and grew FEELS and a PLOT and now... here we are. Thanks to nadine in the POTS server for calming my worries and to Sly for the the kick in the pants I needed to post this. You all rock!!

Tony focuses on the sounds. That's all he has left right now. The steady _scritch scritch_ of Steve's pencil on paper as he works. The harsh sound of his own breath in his ears. The gentle buzz of the vibrator in his ass. It's enough to have him breathing too damn hard in through his nose as he drools around the ball gag in his mouth. The blindfold blocks all light, leaving him trapped in darkness. Once that might have left him afraid, terrified, even, but now, years removed and with Steve close enough to hear, Tony knows better than to doubt.

When sound isn't enough, Tony zeroes in on the feel. The touch of the ropes on his skin, the pressure of the vibrator in his ass, the stretch of his lips around the ball gag. He can't remember the last time he was so anchored in his body, can't remember what it felt like not to _love_ his body the way Steve loves his body. When even that isn't enough, Tony tries to smell the flowers he felt Steve weave in with the shibari. The sweat on his skin. The precome on his cock. Or on Steve's.

And, oh, there's the sound of the twist and shift of Steve's clothes against themselves. Steve's adjusting, and if Tony tries hard enough he can pretend he sees the outline of Steve's cock in his jeans. He'll be shirtless at this point; Tony heard him strip off his shirt ages ago, but that's all that will be off. And if he's been drawing this long, no doubt there's a smudge of graphite along his chin or his cheek. God, Tony can practically see it. Can almost see the way the graphite would look against his fingers, would tempt him into slipping under the way he has already. It's so close, so easy, and Tony knows what all of this is, knows what's waiting for him on the other side, but it's easy enough to slip under when he can all but feel Steve under his skin.

The vibrator kicks up a notch and it takes all Tony's willpower to stay still.

"There's my good boy," Steve murmurs. Tony clenches his eyes shut behind the blindfold, trying not to succumb to Steve's temptation. "Look how pretty you are, taking everything I give you. All spread out on the bed for me. Can't wait to get my hands on you. God, you're gonna fall apart so pretty for me, aren't you?"

Tony moans behind the gag, desperate to make Steve understand. Desperate to make him see. He knows how to be good for Steve, can be so damn good, but this… this isn't what he wants. He wants Steve's hands on him, wants to _feel_ Steve inside of him. Not this paltry metal substitute. He just wants—

"I know, baby," Steve soothes, voice low and gentle. "I know what you want. But you gotta give me what I want first, hmm? That was the deal. You're being a good boy now, but you were a bad boy out in the field today. Nearly got yourself killed, hmm? And you know I don't take kindly to that."

Tony whines, high in the back of his throat. _I'll be good_ , he doesn't say. _I'll be better. Please, just touch me._

 _Scritch scritch_ and the vibrator ticking down a notch and Tony could scream or sob, he's not quite sure which. _I can be good, Steve. I can be good._

Steve starts humming as he draws. Tony fights to stay still, his whole body thrumming with energy and want. He wants so badly, but then, that's what got him into this in the first place. Taking what isn't his. He twists his fingers in the ropes around his bound wrists, gives in and turns his head ever so slightly toward where he knows Steve's sitting. He's never been a man of inaction. He just wants to get what he wants. That's all he's ever wanted.

 _Scri—_ Steve's pencil stills. "Tony. I know I didn't just see you move before I was done."

Tony whines, arching his back against the bonds. Steve snaps his pencil down hard on his sketchbook, or maybe on the bedside table, Tony isn't quite sure. Then Steve's moving — Tony can hear denim on denim on skin — until Tony can feel his breath on his lips.

"I thought. I told you. To stay still."

Tony's breath catches in his chest.

"Good boys do as they're told. Good boys follow instructions. Good boys get to come when I'm done with them. But right now? You're not being a very good boy."

Tony whines.

Steve ghosts a finger along Tony's shaft, perfectly bound in the slender silk ropes Steve uses for just that purpose. "So, Tony. It's time to decide. Are you going to be a good boy?"

Tony turns toward the sound of Steve's voice and nods, once, breathlessly.

"Good." Steve smacks Tony's thigh hard enough to sting but not hard enough to leave a mark. "Then get back into position. And wait until I'm done."

Tony shudders and readjusts, body relaxing against the sheets even as he tries to stay in position.

"Oh, and one more thing." The vibrations kick up and Tony screams from behind the gag. "Don't come."

Tony closes his eyes, his whole body trembling as he tries not to come. He can feel every inch of silk rope pressed against his skin, hear every _scritch_ of Steve's pencil on paper, smell every drop of sweat on his own skin. This is ecstasy. This is torture. This is _life_.

Tony pants against the ball gag, trying to keep himself together. This is for Steve, this is his penance, and he doesn't dare disobey. Here, in this room, he is Steve's to control as he sees fit, and if Steve says he can't come, he won't. No matter what it takes.

Seconds turn to minutes, and though Tony knows it hasn't been that long it feels like he's been here for hours. Back arched as he tries not to succumb to the want in his belly. He is Steve's instrument, Steve's toy, Steve's pleasure, and if this is what brings Steve pleasure, so be it. Tony will stay here, arched and desperate and wanting until there's nothing left of him, and it will be good because it's for Steve. All for Steve.

It isn't until Tony feels calloused fingers on his skin that he registers the absence of the _scritch scritch_ of Steve's pencil on paper. He tries to hold still, still trying to be Steve's perfect little toy even though he desperately wants to arch into Steve's touch. He clenches his jaw against the ball gag, hoping against hope that there might be something here that he can hang onto while he waits for Steve to pass judgment.

"There's my good boy," Steve whispers against Tony's temple. "So good. Such a pretty little thing. And all mine, aren't you, Tony?"

Tony nods desperately, breathlessly, heart hammering against his ribs.

"Are you ready for me? Ready to take me like the desperate little slut you are?"

Tony whines behind the gag, hoping that Steve understands.

He does. "Alright, then. Let's get the plug out of you, hmm?" Tony nods frantically, tugging at his bonds as he tries to roll over and present himself to Steve. Steve doesn't undo any of the bonds, though. Instead he traces the tip of his finger along Tony's rim, teasing him. "Think that'll work? Think I can just slide my dick right inside you in one go?" Steve grasps the plug between thumb and forefinger and twists it, leaving Tony arching and writhing on the bed. "Think you can take me?"

They both know it's nothing more than a taunt; Steve made damn sure Tony was prepped before they even started the scene. The thought still sends Tony shivering and shaking under Steve's fingers.

Steve chuckles. "Let's see then, shall we?"

He pulls the plug out in one swift motion. Before Tony can even begin to feel bereft, Steve replaces it with his cock, sliding in with one easy push. Tony arches his back, straining to pull away from where his hands are bound together behind him. His arms don't bend the way he needs them to, but that doesn't matter; this is all going to be over embarrassingly fast anyway.

Steve chuckles above him. "That's my boy. That's my beautiful boy." Tony feels Steve's lips ghost over the edges of the ropes that crisscross his torso, feels the fingers of one of Steve's hands press bruises into his hips. His other hand whispers across the flowers twined with the ropes, pressing silky soft petals to his skin. Tony could cry with how the tender touches fail to match the sharp rhythm of Steve's thrusts. "Let go, baby," Steve whispers. "Let go."

Tony arches as far as his bonds will let him, coming hard. He feels his come splatter across his chest in that oversensitized way of the sensory deprived, bright and sharp and desperate. This is love, this is loving Steve, this is everything. This is Tony's whole purpose in life.

Steve takes the ball gag out of his mouth. He brushes his lips across Tony's. Tony arches into the touch, heart beating a tattoo in his chest. "Love you," Tony whispers. "Love you so much."

Steve stills, huffing out a laugh that's almost as hoarse as Tony's voice. For a tiny moment Tony wonders if— "You keep saying that and then you go off to almost give me a heart attack," Steve says, voice sharp.

Tony closes his eyes behind the blindfold, the harsh words cutting much too deep. He feels the tears slip out from behind the blindfold. If he can't have all of Steve, this has to be enough. "Love you, though." It has to be.

Steve sighs. "I know, babe. I know." Steve's thrusts turn slow and languid, and that isn't what Tony wants, but he knows how to take what he can get. Steve presses a hand against Tony's belly, just lingering there as though to feel himself through Tony's skin. "Know how much this means to you. So fuckin' pretty all trussed up for me. All mine."

Tony arches his neck, begging without words. Steve obliges without a second thought. Tony can feel Steve's lips against his throat. There aren't any ropes there tonight, but Tony knows that all he has to do is ask. Ask and Steve will tie him up so pretty, so perfect, good enough for the man that he loves even if only in this small way.

Steve's cock punches deep into him. When he speaks, his voice is too close. "I can hear you thinking from here, Tony. I thought this was all to turn your brain off."

Tony's chest goes tight. "Steve, I—"

Steve's cock moves altogether too hard and deep and fast inside of him. "I must not be doing my job right if you can think that much."

Tony shakes his head, twisting on the bed. He's bound too tightly to reach out for Steve and, for the first time, Tony wonders just how much of that was on purpose. "Steve, I— I—"

Steve leans down, capturing Tony's mouth with his. "I know, baby. I know."

Tony whines, leaning up into the kiss as Steve takes him apart. "Gotta be good for you," he whispers against Steve's lips. "Gotta."

"You are, baby. So good for me. Do whatever I ask with a smile on your face when we're in here. I know you want to be good for me and I know— I know I can't ask for more than that."

Something pulls through the haze of the subspace Tony's dropped into. Something real and fearful behind the strength in Steve's voice. He pulls back, wishing Steve had taken off the blindfold too. "Steve—"

Steve pulls back in turn, punching his hips forward to drive his cock deep inside of Tony. Tony whimpers, his whole body going taut at the oversensitivity. Tony pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, neck arching back as Steve picks up his pace.

"Steve, I'm—"

"Don't, Tony. Not if you don't mean it."

Tony lets out a harsh breath through his nose. He isn't sorry he did what he did today. Too many people were going to die if he didn't disarm that bomb. He was the only one that could do it, the only one that could make a difference. If all he can do is save lives and be Steve's, he'll die a happy man.

It's not that Tony's never pulled a stunt like this before, because he has. He definitely has. Run in too soon or gotten out too late, and Steve's always gotten angry at him for that. But this… this is different. This is Steve bringing the field into their bedroom, bringing the ache and fear and desperation of their work into the comfort of their bed. Something's different about this. Something's going on.

Tony turns toward where he can hear Steve panting, toward the desperate sound of his breath. "Steve… baby, please."

A sob punches its way out of Steve's chest, and Tony startles. That isn't at all what he'd expected, and to hear Steve so viscerally affected—

"You walked away."

Tony blinks behind the blindfold. "What?"

"You walked away from me, Tony. You ignored me when I asked you— when I _begged_ you—"

Tony turns his head blindly, trying to get his mouth on Steve. Steve's lips press against his, firm and certain in a way that has Tony surging against him.

"Fuck, Tony, you don't understand what it _does_ to me to see you like that."

"Like what?"

"So damn calm like your life doesn't mean anything. Like the world wouldn't be so much darker without you. Tony, I can't— I can't—"

"I know."

"Tony—"

"I know, Steve. I have to watch you out there too. I have to watch you tear yourself apart like your body doesn't mean a damn thing. I know, Steve. It hurts me too."

Steve shakes his head. "It's not the same."

"Isn't it, though?"

"Your job isn't to protect me!"

Tony's heart stops in his chest. "Ferrum," he whispers. Steve stills above and within and around him and Tony knows he's going to have to say it again. The second his heart starts going again the panic takes over, drowning him in darkness and sensation and too damn much. "Ferrum, ferrum, ferrum, Steve, I—"

It's his name that seems to be what kicks Steve into motion. He's careful as he pulls out, and then Tony hears him fumbling through the bedside table for something. Blood is rushing in Tony's ears, and it's all he can do not to descend into a panic attack. He has to trust Steve, has to— has to—

Tony jumps when the safety scissors come to rest against his skin. He distantly hears Steve talking, muttering under his breath, but he doesn't strain to hear, too busy trying not to hyperventilate. The bonds around his arms fall away and Tony's reaching up for his blindfold the second his hands are free. He tries to scramble away from Steve, unaware that his legs are still bound together until too late. Steve holds his hands up, trying to demonstrate that he's harmless, but Tony can't even make himself meet Steve's eyes. He looks down at his legs, one hand still tugging ineffectively at the blindfold, trying to get it off his head completely. He pulls away, knowing he must look a sight but unable to do anything but scrabble at the ties that bind him.

"Tony." Tony flinches at the sound of his name, so warm and soft when Steve— "Baby. Please. Just— just let me get the ropes off and then— then I'll get out of your hair."

Tony sobs, shaking his head and reaching out, fingernails scratching against Steve's wrist as Tony tries to grab ahold of him. "Don't," he chokes out. "Don't leave."

"Tony—"

"Please. I can— I can be good, I can do better, I— I—"

"Shh, I know baby, I know. Just let me get you out of all that first, okay?"

Tony doesn't want to let go of Steve's wrist, but he forces himself to pull away far enough that Steve can cut the ropes off his legs and ease the blindfold off his head. Every touch burns, every breath aches, but Tony knows Steve's there, and that has to be all that matters. Steve has to be all that matters.

As soon as Tony's free, Steve sets the scissors back into the drawer and settles onto the bed beside Tony. He's hesitant, hands moving toward Tony only to jerk away right after. Tony flinches at the abrupt motion, and Steve does the same. "Tony, I—"

Tony shakes his head. He doesn't have the words to speak or to defend himself right now and he doesn't think he could bear to hear what Steve is going to say to him. Tony reaches out, hand loose around Steve's wrist, tugging it toward him. Steve moves slowly, telegraphing each motion and giving Tony the opportunity to move away any time. Tony doesn't. He just waits and takes whatever Steve will give.

In the end what Steve will give is a cautious embrace, Tony's back pressed up against Steve's bare chest. Tony closes his eyes and lets his head loll against Steve's shoulder, taking whatever comfort he can. Steve strokes one hand along Tony's arm and leaves the other arm wrapped loosely across Tony's hips. It takes more effort than it should for Tony to turn and nestle his nose against the column of Steve's throat.

"'Kay," Tony finally mumbles against Steve's skin. "Y'c'n say it now."

Steve tightens the arm across Tony's hips, then seems to consciously relax it. "Say what?"

"Wh'tever y' were g'nna say bef're."

Tony can feel Steve's throat work against his nose. He presses in closer, trying to bury himself in Steve's scent as though that might take away the pain of what's coming.

Steve takes a slow breath before leaning in and pressing a kiss to the top of Tony's head. "I'm sorry."

That… isn't what Tony had been expecting. "Hmm?"

"For bringing what happens in the field into our bed. I'm sorry."

Tony frowns. "But I messed up."

Steve's arm does that tighten-and-release around Tony's hips again. "No, baby. No, you didn't"

"Y's I did," Tony says. He hates the way his words slur when he's coming out of subspace. He frowns again and tries very carefully to articulate his words. "You said so."

Steve lets his other arm wrap around Tony's torso, pulling him in close and tight. "No, baby. No, you did what you always do. You put everyone else first. That's… that's what you do. I wouldn't love you if I didn't know that about you."

Tony shakes his head, words slurring as he tries to get them out. "But y'said I—"

"I know what I said," Steve says sharply. Tony goes stiff in his arms. Steve breathes out a measured stream of air and relaxes his hold on Tony. "I know what I said," he says again, more gently this time, but still with an undercurrent of anger that Tony can't place. "That doesn't mean I was right."

Tony doesn't have an answer to that.

"The deal was that what happens in the bedroom stays in the bedroom, and that should go the other way too. I don't have any right to hold what happens out there against you in here."

Tony's chest goes tight. "Why does it even matter?" His voice is stronger now, more level and even than it's been for the last few minutes. "Why do you even care what happens to me out there?"

Steve makes a wounded sound that has Tony reaching up to card his fingers through Steve's hair instinctively. He turns and presses a kiss to whatever part of Steve he can reach, which ends up being his jaw. Steve makes the same wounded sound, turning and capturing Tony's lips with his. Tony leans up into the kiss wondering as he has perhaps a thousand times why he lets Steve kiss him like this when he knows—

Steve pulls away abruptly, and in the dim light all Tony can see is how spit slick and red his lips are. "How can you even ask me that, Tony?"

Tony blinks. "What?"

"How can you ask me why I care? I haven't been the least bit subtle about any of this."

"Subtle about what?"

"Tony. Come on. Please, don't make me say it."

Tony turns in Steve's lap, straddling Steve's thighs and staring into Steve's eyes, desperation welling in his chest. "Say what? Steve," he adds when Steve bows his head and looks away. "Steve, baby," Tony whispers, mind suddenly making connections it never had before. "Say what?"

"Tony—"

The sound of his name on Steve's lips has never sounded so broken, so yearning, so wanting. It has Tony wanting to lean in and taste the shape of it on his own lips. But he doesn't let himself. Not yet. Not now. Not when there's still so much to be done and said. "Because you have to know too. If I know, you must know too."

Steve's breath hitches. "Tony—"

Tony leans in, burying his face in Steve's neck and wrapping his arms around him. "You have to know how much I love you."

Steve sits there, frozen for long enough that Tony starts to wonder if he's misjudged all of this. Before he can pull away, Steve's arms come to rest tentatively around Tony's hips, then less unsure, pulling Tony in closer. "Fuck."

Tony bites his lip, not wanting to take this moment from either of them. Because if this is the last time they get to have this—

"How can you always be the brave one?"

Tony closes his eyes. He lets himself relax against Steve. "Not that brave."

Steve pulls Tony closer to him. "So brave. So _fucking_ brave, Tony. You have to know that. You have to."

"Steve—"

"I always thought you knew. You know everything else. Why wouldn't you know this?"

Tony turns his head and presses a kiss to Steve's temple. "I wondered. But I always wrote it off as wishful thinking. Figured someone as wonderful as you wouldn't ever feel that way about me."

Steve whimpers, and it breaks Tony's heart to hear it. "Steve—"

"I do. Tony, you have to know I do."

Tony closes his eyes. "I know."

Steve pulls away far enough to look up and meet Tony's gaze. "I love you."

The words hit Tony like a sucker punch, knocking the wind from his lungs. "Oh."

Steve's face melts with something like relief, something like hope. "Yeah. Oh."

Tony licks his lips. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," Steve says with a chuckle. He leans up and brushes his lips against Tony's. "Yeah."

Tony nods, leaning in and pressing his face to Steve's shoulder. "Okay."

"Okay."

Tony closes his eyes. It isn't the way he'd have wanted this to come out, but then, it's the conclusion he'd hoped for, and nothing can take that away from him. He shifts against Steve, realizing all at once that Steve hadn't come and has now gone soft between them. The lingering remnants of his subdrop has him wanting to take Steve in his mouth and give him what he deserves, but the rest of him is too languid and relaxed from Steve's words to do anything about it. He lets his hand drift between them, though, fingers ghosting across Steve's length.

Steve catches his wrist in his hand. "Not tonight, baby."

"Steve—"

Steve shakes his head, leaning in to press a kiss to Tony's temple, his jaw, the arch of his cheekbone. "Just let me stay with you tonight." Tony's breath catches and he knows Steve hears it. He can feel Steve hesitate, then steel himself and forge ahead. "That would mean more to me. If you'd let me stay."

Tony closes his eyes. It's everything he'd wanted and never had the strength to ask for. He lets his whole weight rest against Steve and nods.

Steve stays still for a moment before pulling Tony in closer against him, pressing kisses all over his face. "Thank you, Tony. God, just… thank you."

Tony smiles, something warm and hopeful settling in between his ribs. "You love me," he whispers.

"I do," Steve says between kisses. "I do, Tony. I do, I do, I do."

Tony can hear the promise in those words, They send a thrill through him, warming him from head to toe, soothing all the hurts and all the fears he's carried around for months. He relaxes against Steve. "I love you too."

Steve pauses, then returns to kissing Tony wherever he can reach. He doesn't acknowledge the words beyond that, but Tony knows he heard them. It's in the reverent kisses he presses into Tony's skin and the way he eases Tony down against the sheets. Tony has to tug Steve up by the arm to get him to lay beside Tony. Steve presses one more kiss to Tony's lips, whispering one last _I love you_ against them.

Tony smiles. "I know." Then he tugs Steve in close. "Come on. We have all day tomorrow to talk about where we go from here. Right now, I just want to rest."

Steve wraps himself around Tony, manhandling him until Tony's the little spoon. Tony smiles, secretly pleased to be wrapped up in Steve's strong arms. "Whatever you want, Tony," Steve whispers against Tony's neck.

Tony shivers. "Okay, Steve. Okay."

The morning will bring more questions, a return to norms that they've forced into place before, but for tonight, at least, they have each other and the space they share. For tonight, they have the world at their fingertips, each other in their arms. For tonight, this is all that they need to know.

Tony wraps a hand around Steve's wrist where it rests across his waist. Yes. This is all Tony needs to know.


End file.
